Bad Habit
by SpyKid18
Summary: Peggy thought she would never see her one night stand again. That is, until she learns he is the son of a resident at the retirement home where she works. Modern STEGGY.


Peggy looked over at the man next to her in bed. He was fast asleep and softly snoring, the sound like an ambient sleep machine. He was conventionally attractive. Mussed blonde hair situated above a nicely shaped nose and mouth. He had a good jawline, something Peggy always appreciated in a man because she thought it gave them character. But it was time for him to go. She started work in an hour and she could hardly leave some guy she met at a bar in her apartment. Who knew what would be missing when she got back.

"Hello?" she said, poking him in the shoulder. When he didn't wake up, she raised her voice and tried again, her bedfellow groggily turning his head toward her and giving her a half-smile as he said, "Good morning."

"I need you to leave," she said simply.

He hoisted himself up on his elbows, the new position giving her a rather nice view of his sculpted shoulders, and asked, "What?"

Peggy was momentarily distracted by the chiseled line of his collarbone, but then she shook it off with a quick nod of her head and said, "Look, last night was fun, but I start work in an hour. It's a new job so I probably shouldn't be late."

"Oh, sure," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I should have set an alarm or something."

"It's okay," she said. She reached behind her and grabbed his clothes, setting them next to him on the bed. It had actually taken her quite a while that morning to find them all. One of his socks somehow ended up behind her vanity.

"Anyway, I'll be out in the kitchen," she said, her mind already on her first cup of coffee. She walked out and closed the door behind her, busying herself with the coffee machine as he changed. Not too long after, he walked out of her bedroom.

"So, can I call you sometime?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, giving him the number to a nearby Chinese takeout. In the rare event he actually called, at least he'd end up with a good meal. "Anyway, I really need to get ready."

"Right. It was nice meeting you…" he trailed off at her name and she told him, "Peggy."

"Yes, I knew that."

No, he hadn't. To be fair, though, she hadn't remembered his until she peaked at his driver's license that morning.

"It was nice meeting you, Peggy."

"You too, Steve."

He paused for a moment, like he was waiting for her to say more, and then he nodded, giving her one last wave before he left. Finally alone, Peggy launched into action, filling up her coffee mug as she wondered if she had enough time to grab a donut on the way into work. Probably not. She still needed to shower and then traffic always proved unpredictable, particularly when she needed to be on time.

A quick piece of toast and shower later, Peggy pulled her car into the Brookdale Retirement Home. Working in a retirement home wasn't exactly Peggy's dream job, but when she found herself in between jobs, it fit the bill well enough. Her friend, Rose, was the director of a number of retirement homes and brought Peggy in to manage programming at Brookdale. When Peggy reminded her that she had no experience with event planning, Rose waved away her friend's concern and said, "You're the most organized person I know. You'll be fine."

Peggy hoped that was true. Otherwise, they were both about to have some very unhappy residents on their hands. Peggy checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror before walking inside, the receptionist at the front greeting her with a warm smile. Her nametag read "Cathy J".

"Hello, welcome to Brookdale. Are you here to visit a resident?"

"No, I'm Peggy Carter. I'm the new programming director."

Cathy's smile dropped slightly, and she said, "Oh, hello. I'll take you to your office."

Peggy followed her, trying not to read too much into the woman's pointed silence. They walked past a colorful mural and Peggy said, "That is a beautiful piece of work."

"Yes, Abby did it," Cathy said.

"I'm sorry, who is Abby?" Peggy asked.

"The programming director before you," Cathy said. "She was a wonderful woman."

"Well, she's certainly a wonderful artist."

"We all loved Abby here. She went above and beyond for the residents. It was like a higher calling. We actually called her Saint Abby sometimes."

Peggy didn't know quite how to respond to that, and settled with, "Well, I hope you all take to me as much as Abby."

"We probably won't," Cathy returned simply, entirely oblivious to the shocked expression that played on Peggy's face. "Anyway, here's your office. If you need anything, I'll be up front."

"Right. Thank you."

Peggy watched the woman walk away for a moment and then went into her office. On her desk, there was a packet detailing the events already planned for that month. A parting gift from Saint Abby herself. Before Peggy was hired, Rose explained that the outgoing programming director had worked ahead a bit, so in the beginning all she would have to do was to make sure everything ran smoothly.

"I can do this," Peggy said, taking a deep breath before opening up the packet. She spent the morning going carefully through the plans and making notes for any areas where she would need to follow-up. She worked clear through lunch, her stomach loudly protesting the fact. She popped over to the cafeteria and grabbed a quick sandwich, her mind already on the list of phone calls she'd made for that afternoon.

Just as she went to take a bite of her sandwich, an older man appeared in the doorway and said, "Hello there."

"Hello," she said with a bright grin. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Marvin."

"Hello Marvin. Can I help you?"

He nodded and said, "The TV isn't working."

"The TV," she repeated, wondering what TV and if her job had unclarified technological duties that she was woefully unqualified for.

"Yes, the TV."

"Well, what's wrong with it?" she asked.

"It's not working," he returned simply.

Peggy saw they were not going to get particularly far with words and she stood up and gamely said, "Alright, let's take a look at this TV."

She followed him out into the common area where a group of residents were gathered around the television. A show was playing, and she wondered what was not working, when the character began to speak in dubbed Spanish.

"Does someone have the remote control?" Peggy asked.

"Who are you?" an older woman in an oversized sweater asked.

"She's the new Abby," Marvin said.

"I'm Peggy. The new programming director," Peggy explained. "I can try to fix this but I do need the remote."

"Who had it last?" Marvin asked the group.

"I don't know," the oversized sweater woman said. "Ask Vivien. She always knows these sorts of things."

Marvin walked over to a seated area and Peggy watched him approach a stately older woman with white hair cut into a chic bob. Peggy blanched when she saw the man sitting across from her. That morning, he had been in her bed. Naked.

Peggy looked away quickly, but he had already seen her, his mouth pulled into a half-grin. She heard the older woman, Vivien, say, "Harold had it. You know he's always accidentally taking it back to his room."

"Harold, of course," Peggy said quickly. "I'll go get it."

She went to leave, but then turned toward the nearest resident and asked, "What room is Harold?"

"201."

She nodded succinctly and hurried off toward Harold's room. Sure enough, the remote was on his dresser, and she took it back with her into the common room. Her prior night's entertainment was still chatting amicably with Vivien, although she could feel his gaze on her every so often. It didn't help matters that she couldn't figure out how to change the blasted language back to English.

"Do you need help?" Steve asked behind her, making her jump.

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure? Because you've been at this for at least fifteen minutes. I think they're starting to plan a mutiny."

"I bet Abby would have gotten it right away," Peggy said unhappily. "If Abby was so great why isn't she here anymore?"

"She joined the peace corps."

Peggy looked over at him. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah."

Peggy shook her head and said, "Figures."

"Anyway, it's sort of odd us running into each other here, don't you think?" he asked.

Peggy knew that tone all too well, and she set him with a look before she said, "Look, you seem like a nice guy and all, but last night was a one-time thing. I'm not looking to date anyone."

"Yeah, I gleaned that from the fake number you gave me," he said. "You know, you could have just said no when I asked if I could call you."

"From my experience, men don't always like it when a woman says no," Peggy told him. "So, I got creative."

He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry my gender sucks sometimes."

"I suppose mine does, too, at times."

"Like giving a nice guy, who just wants to take you out to dinner, the number for a Chinese takeout?" Steve asked leadingly.

Peggy fought back a grin and said, "No. I stand by that."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Peggy tried out a few more buttons on the remote, and she asked, "Is Vivien your mother?"

"Yeah. She moved in here a few years after my dad died. She said being alone in their house made her sad, reliving all the memories and all that, so…here we are."

"Here we are," she echoed, questioning the sudden tightness in her chest when her eyes met his.

"How are we doing on that TV?" Marvin asked loudly, interrupting the moment.

Steve laughed and asked, "Will you please let me help?"

Peggy relented and handed over the remote. Within five seconds, the characters were speaking English again.

"I was going to try that next," Peggy said.

Steve grinned. "I'm sure you were."


End file.
